The Stars Gaze Back At Us
by Blueberry Absinth
Summary: The story of Soraka and Master Yi, through his childhood up until now, under Ionia's starlight... eventual Soraka/Master Yi
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is a one-shot gone batshit insane which I have the strange motivation to finish XD 'hearts' ^_^ **

**Some clarifications first. I'm taking the skin Divine Soraka as her default immortal look. Also, though on most of her skins, her eyes seemed human-like and are yellow (with pupils and sclera and stuff), while on the abovementioned skin her eyes are pearly white. As for Master Yi, I'm guessing by the colour of his goggles that his eyes are yellow-greenish. That's what I'm using for canon *insert fucked up logic* :D **

**Anyway, I hope you like this and there's definitely gonna be more ^_^ **

* * *

It was a breezy summer night, up in the Starchild's grove, hidden amidst the thousand stars of Valoran.

Apparently nature had decided to be gracious so there weren't any clouds, which opened a great view of the isle of Ionia. Thousands and thousands hills stretched on for miles, glittering a dark turquoise under the stars' smiles, up until they morphed into the much steeper mountains in the far north of east of Ionia. However, from her height, nothing seemed very far; instead it lay at an arm's reach. Even the lands beyond the Veil.

Now Soraka couldn't care less for the marvelous scenery before her, nor for the wonders of the unknown. Instead, with the lack of interest to the world that only immortals seemed to possess, she was seated far away from the outer world, engrossed in playing her flute, filling the silence of her dwelling. Although it wasn't really quiet, as the sounds of sleeping Ionia could be heard – the quiet hustle of a predator, the rapid heartbeat of a scared hare, the serene activity of the towns, - she paid them no mind and worked her music to accentuate the beauty of her friends, to elevate and praise. Even if it was only her and the celestial bodies who could hear the song, she knew a faint glimmer of its echoed all over Ionia, healing the ill of heart and blessing them with sound sleep.

So she played on and on, twisting the tunes as though they were her own healing magic. Until the stars spoke in her mind.

"Wait, Starchild," their voice was clear and pristine, like bells chanting in her mind, "Look upon the mortal lands."

Usually they would speak to her in a chorus though it was not uncalled for that only certain stars spoke to her. Sometimes they even quarreled: those times were the best.

She stopped abruptly and glided with uncanny grace to look at the hills of Ionia. From the first glance nothing had changed. However, as she concentrated more, she could make out a tiny silhouette of a boy, barely a shadow in the dark, running through the thick vegetation. As her magic intensified, she could hear his cries and― by the sky, he was so little! He couldn't be more than six years old. A small gasp escaped her lips and her hands shot up to cover her mouth in surprise.

"A child is lost."

"Is there anything we can do to save him?" Soraka humbly asked her closest friends and the source of her powers. There was a short silence, before a single voice responded.

"I saw in which direction his village is. Play your music and we will make it so it leads him the right way."

She squinted at him one last time. Dark hair, scrawny, with a weird set of bones. Yet there was something in that body childish posture, in the determination of each movement and in the brightness of his soul, which shone almost as bright as her friends.

A trepid smile etched on her face and slowly she brought the headjoint of the flute to her flute and blew. Her hands started their unhurried waltz on the keys. Before, she had only practiced, but now she had some audience; she had to do her best.

The sweet breezy notes reverberated in her grove, from where their started their extraordinary journey to the ordinary world below.

She didn't dare open her eyes, lest she mistake the melody, but she was sure that her friends had done what they had promised and the boy was on his way to safety. Her heart was singing too (even if it was only her who could hear it) – her nature was to help and it brought her only contentment.

"We'll guide you, boy," she thought to herself as her happiness poured out into music.

* * *

**BTW, how's the length of the chapter? Would you prefer it bigger or around the same? (this is meant to be a prologue of sorts, anyway, and other chapters have to be longer :? **


	2. Chapter 1

***knocks* Heya guys, I'm back again :))))**

**Since all of you wanted a longer chapter, a longer chapter it is 'insert evil laugh' Hope you like it ;) ;)**

**Anyway, I have taken a few liberties with canon (for example, Master Yi being able to heal others, not only himself), but for each of them I have a reason (read: excuse :D), so if something is bothering you, do free to tell me and I'll give my reasons for doing that and that (*really just wants to talk to peoplez* XD)**

**So, onto the (much longer) chapter! :P**

* * *

…...

Soraka was eternal.

Her immortality would be meaningless without doing her best to ease the suffering of many. She had lost count of all the wars whose victims she had had to heal. She had lost count of all the times of peace, whose occasional illnesses she had had to cure. She didn't bother counting all her remaining days in the future, but she really hoped they were filled with her helping those in need. She didn't bother remembering the faces of each one that she had helped: instead, everything merged into one enormous memory of gratefulness in her mind. And it contented her.

So she barely remembered the moment she had saved a little boy's life, until the same boy managed to find her.

She was playing her flute again, this time a gentler tune that spoke of the sun's rays embracing the earth and a mother's gentle hand. The music had her so engrossed that she startled when a sudden sound rustled from the trees around the entrance to the real world. Not really annoyed that her activity had been interrupted, she rose from her favourite spot on the left side of a fallen tree trunk, left her instrument behind and all but glided towards the source of the noise.

She lowered her head to pass through the trees without hitting herself, while keeping her enormous hair with both of her hands so as not to get it tangled. In her mind both the stars and she were chanting a universal healing spell, just in case the patient was in a way too severe state. But what she saw astonished her.

It was a boy, no more than 10 years old, with a giant smile that could easily chop his face in half and whose only injury was a scrape of his knee. Soraka stopped in her tracks, flabbergasted, and wondered.

The child was busy untangling himself from a bush. He'd had the misfortune of sidestepping from the main path, which was strange because it was quite clearly marked. A giggle almost erupted from her mouth, but she didn't laugh for fear of offending him. So she moved in to help him.

As he noticed her, however, the reaction was weird. His eyes widened and started twinkling, and the impossible happened: that grin grew even bigger. She was momentarily struck with that picture of childish innocence.

"You are the flute player, right?"

The Starchild was once again surprised at his question. He wasn't here for wounds; then what was he here for? Never before had she been sought out for anything but healing…

Ever so slowly, like stars dancing and mountains moving, she nodded. There was a vague feeling of fatefulness, of curiosity, of shock and horror settling in her stomach and bile in her mouth, which she swallowed with some difficulty. Her hands shook a little at that, but her mind was clear, rather than confused and overcrowded as per usual. Even her celestial friends were silent at this interesting turn of the events, opting to leave her to her thoughts.

His face contorted into an even bigger smile, which she couldn't understand how it hadn't sliced his face in two already, while a certain kind of sparkles overtook his big childish eyes.

"_Aww, I already like him!_" a younger star chirped in her mind before being shushed by the others, but she had said what everyone thought; they were suckers for innocence.

"Awesome! You know, I've been looking for you for ages! Haha, the other boys will finally believe me!" the child all but giggled, beat into the air with a small stick in his right hand, catching a few branches in the process, making it rain leaves for a moment, and started dancing. Although tall for his age, he was lanky and very, very thin.

"Alright, alright, careful now," she was still uncertain as to what to do, so she simply ushered him into her grove. Might as well give him shelter before asking what it was that he wanted.

The thin blades of grass tickled her bare feet as she moved about in the grove, and the ends of her skirt were dotted with specks of the dew which never really got away.

The boy refused settle down for quite some time (Soraka tended to forget that mortal children had so much energy that it was sometimes terrifyingly exhausting, especially for her, to try to get a kid to do something. Anything.

Once he calmed down, however, Soraka kneeled in front of him, so as to be on his eye level, and bore her gaze right into his. He answered her with an equally powerful stare, though there was the tinge of a joke in those greenish depths. His mouth was a little too large for that way too long face, but it was relaxed, hinting at a carefree character.

Well, duh, he was still a child.

Her eyes travelled down and settled on his knee. The cut was quite deep so it must be very annoying.

"Do you want me to heal that cut for you?" she murmured, words falling softly like droplets in a brook, her hands already glowing with healing energy.

The boy startled at her, eyes going even wider and becoming even more innocent, and violently shook his head. Even more baffling.

"But why? It'd be better for you."

The boy huffed, indignant.

"No! Such is the Wuju philosophy: when there's pain, there's gain. Everything has to be balanced and we need to be too, with both ourselves and the world around us."

"Ah," she gasped lightly and shook her head. So the boy was from the villages which practiced that philosophy. That would explain the power of his eyes and that happy-go-lucky and reckless attitude. However, he didn't seem to understand the words he had just said, as they sounded orchestrated and weird in his mouth, "So, why did you find me if not for healing, Wuju boy?"

He straightened his back, trying to look more decent but all he managed to do was accentuate his lankiness and thin frame. That elicited a giggle from the Starchild; his antics were cute.

"I wanted to thank my saviour," he said it, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Apparently it wasn't, as Soraka gaped.

"Your saviour?"

For the life of her, she couldn't remember him.

The boy glanced at her, disappointed, and crumpled to the ground in a cross-legged position. It was an ode to popping joints and way too long limbs.

"Remember the time when you saved me with your song?"

Although there was a hint of a memory, she shook her head no.

"Well, it was four years ago. I'd got lost after the sun'd set. I couldn't find my way back to my village. The forests are very dangerous at night and I knew that; so I got more and more panicked. That way I wouldn't have ever got back. Unless I hadn't heard your song – the one you were playing just before. That night it sounded heavenly; it meant that someone was close and could help me. I ran in the direction from which it was coming and didn't stop until I could see the lights of my village in the distance. I knew it was mine straight away. Everyone was really happy to see me back, but I still wondered who had helped me with their song. Only today I could hear your song, which led me to here."

Little by little, fragments resurfaced from the gutter of Soraka's mind. She joined them together and realized that the boy was right. But from what she remembered, he was younger.

"I think I remember that moment, yes," she murmured, as to which the boy immediately sprung on his feet and started bowing to her in thanks, "There is no need to do that, really. That is my duty."

To tell the truth, someone finding her just to say "thank you" was a first.

"Though you did seem much younger back then."

It was the boy's turn to laugh heartily.

"Well, I do grow up, you know. That was long ago – I'm almost a grown man now!"

She couldn't help but snort a bit at that last part. It sounded so silly, with his figure and that shrill voice which hadn't mutated yet. But still, she remained composed so as not to offend him.

"And may I ask you your name?" she asked.

"Yi," he jumped again, way too enthusiastic for her tastes but still managing to be quite delectable, "Mater Yi, future best Wuju Bladesman! You?"

She giggled for the tenth time today. Man, did that boy dream big. Well, two could play at that game. She smiled and bowed to him, at perfect ninety degrees. He gaped at that, obviously used to the fact that no one took him seriously. But now it was different and he couldn't react in an adequate way.

"I am Soraka, the Starchild, healer of Ionia! Pleased to meet you!"

At that instant that face-chopping grin was back on his face and he was jumping around and swashing at invisible enemies. As she watched him, she couldn't help but revel at that determination and childlike enthusiasm, locked in a duet on his face and soul, which was quite unlike any other.

There were still some leaves in her hair. She plucked them out with a soft smile.

"_I wonder if he'll stick around." _

She wasn't sure whose the thought was – hers or the stars'.

…..

After that he started frequenting her grove.

One day, when the trees had already changed their colour to bleeding red and the stars had turned the other way of their endless journey, he came back once again. She had just sent off a few peasants, who had contracted the flu (it seemed that a village showed signs of a weird illness she could only explain as "flu") and was planning to have the nice good rest she deserved for a long time now, when there was a sudden rustle around the entrance of her grove. A smile found its way on her face: poor boy never managed to enter her grove properly.

It was to only person that Soraka would gladly forsake her free time (rare as it was), and that was that little boy, Master Yi, as he called himself, and simply Yi, as she called him.

"What are you here for this time?" she asked him, already beaming at him (really, that attitude was infectious), but this time the usual smile was absent.

He'd always come with some half-assed reason and stay for quite some time, never for the reason he'd previously mentioned. She had grown used to it and it seemed natural and kind of endearing now.

With a huff, he emerged from the bushes with a pace that could have easily worn out anyone else, kicking up dust into the air, walked up to her favourite tree trunk and slumped down against it. The wooden sword, which he always carried around and which, according to him, would soon be replaced by a real one, lay to next to him, almost rueful in its aura and appearance.

"W_onder what's into him?"_

"_I believe_ _he is going to tell us in a second."_

The boy hadn't grown only on Soraka, but also on the stars. And they always worried about him. But the worst were the times when they would gather in her mind and hush and gush about how cute he was. In such moments, she had some massive migraine (listening to a bunch of shrill-sounding girls wasn't one of the things one would want to experience).

Seeing that there was no response from the kid, she kneeled in front of him, enough to look right into his eyes. They were dimmed, the usual spark gone, though the usual vibrancy of that remarkable colour was still there. He evaded her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"That pout is telling me otherwise."

"What?! I'm not pouting!"

She chuckled at his indignation.

"Well, your face is telling me otherwise."

„Heyy! That's not funny!" at that she stopped her antics and glanced at him with a twinkle in her eyes, grin melting down into the soft smile she usually gave to her patients; she realized that jokes on him were the last thing he wanted at that moment.

"You are right. It's not," she murmured and, only hesitating for a second, she stood up, dusted her skirt and turned to the other part of her grove, where batches of herbs grew, some which long extinct down there, in the real world.

She needed to think of a cure that could counter the new illness of those village men. Although her power lay in the stars, it was irrevocably connected to the soil of the mortal world, and it was from the earth's creation that she most often sought inspiration from.

She dawdled a bit, between the flowerbeds, enjoying the thick, soothing aroma of so many mixed herbs. When fixing this spot, she'd had the habit of getting obsessive-compulsive, as everything had its strict place: tall plants in the back, smaller in the front. However, it wasn't going all according to plan: for example, a bush which was now widely considered as simply a weed had overtaken the bed of violets and was now freely blooming with its minuscule white flowers, eating away the sunshine for the poor purple blossoms of the violets.

Annoyed, Soraka pulled at them, making sure they went all the way out, including even the tiniest extension of the root, held in her left fist and carried on, occasionally picking up herbs.

Working had her so engrossed that she didn't even notice the small silhouette tailing her before he spoke.

"It was them again."

She startled, stopped her search and turned to him. His cheeks were burning in shame, eyes lost somewhere between the ground and her skirt, hands balled into fists. With a sigh, she bent forward a little, barely noticing that he'd grown, until her eyes were right in front of his. But he still wouldn't look at her.

Another exasperated sigh fell from her lips. Apparently, it was going to be the hard way. Ever so gently, she took hold of his chin and moved his head so that it faced her. Her eyes held his captive, and a slow blush crept up his pale cheeks. He looked like a frightened hare, feeling the imminent approach of the predator.

After a long pause of silence, he spoke.

"… They were making fun of me again."

She knew it!

Instead of jumping around in smugness that she'd managed to learn something from him, even at the price of much effort and eye duels, she all but stood up and dusted herself. Yi soon followed.

"They came out of nowhere while I was training and started laughing at my sword and my stance. They even said I'd be a better baker or a cleaner with the skills I have," he had started rambling, eager to have his compliment, but Soraka wouldn't give him any of that.

She whirled around so as to face him, sending silks and silken hair in a halo around her, and gave the boy the same look as before. As a response, the boy visibly cowered, his head shooting down to look at his feet.

She softened.

"Look now, boy, remind me of the Wuju philosophy."

"Everything has to be balanced and we need to be too, with both ourselves and the world around us," his eyes lightened up and he all but sang, making her smile: still the same words down to the very articles. It was so endearing.

"Well, and it seems to me that you aren't really in balance with yourself," he didn't deny anything so she continued, "You aren't in balance with yourself, you don't believe in your power and don't accept your weaknesses which has lead to you taking very seriously what those boys have said."

A barely visible nod. She took a deep breath and poked his nose.

"And you know what to do should you be out of balance, do you not?"

Another nod, more visible now.

"Meditation," he murmured, but in such a low voice that she decided to humour him.

"What? I couldn't hear you?"

"Meditation!" this time it was louder and more determined, as his head shot up and stared her dead in the eye. For yet another time she was struck by the boy's mesmerizing eyes. She could only imagine how many girls he would have thanks to them.

She moved by his side, wound an arm around his shoulders and led him to a part of her grove where he hadn't been: the place where she meditated. As she was leading him, however, she became aware of the stars speaking in her mind. Or shouting was more like it. It was a wonder how she hadn't paid attention to them at all.

"_Quite the smooth talker you are, Soraka. I didn't know you had it in you." _

"_Me neither,"_ she admitted. She'd rarely said things on her own accord, relying on the stars to whisper comforting words in her mind that she'd repeat and soothe the souls of the mortal. But now she had done so alone. And she really didn't know how to feel about that.

Anyway, what was important was that the boy was once again eager to learn, calm at heart and happy.

…..

"… And now you lean forward, keeping your back straight," Soraka was showing yet another of her stretching exercises to a seemingly interested Yi, who was watching her with utmost attention. Her body bent forward right according to her own instructions, hands resting on her waist. The weight of her breasts pressed her down and her dress threatened to fall apart.

Really, she should think of new attire.

Her back was always killing her with all that bending over patients so she tried to do at least some stretching exercises so as not to have eternal backache.

And Yi had once run into her doing them and of course had demanded that she showed them to him so that he could do them as well. And that was how they got in this situation. Soraka had nothing against showing him what she did but she couldn't understand his enthusiasm. Something was off. She felt nervous.

Her eyes were trained on the ground, just like in the exercise but she couldn't help but steal a glance at him. He seemed fascinated enough, but his eyes were dark and dazed, as though trying to focus on a few things at once. He never looked like that. Interesting.

"Do you understand, boy?"

The question surprised him and he jolted as though waking up from a shock. He looked left and right for a fraction of the second and then looked at her, while trying to keep his eyes away. She noticed the faintest blush dusting his cheeks.

"Y-yes."

She nodded as an acknowledgment, following through with her exercises, not really giving thought to what'd just happened. Until it happened again.

She was in yet another pose which had her bending forward. Her breathing was already labored enough, and she was dying for a rest, but she this time she managed to catch a glimpse of what exactly he was staring at. Her chest.

Her face turned instantly beet red.

"_Whooopsiee, I think we caught a pervert in the making!" _a way too chirpy voice giggled in her head.

"_Hey! I don't think he was staring… _there_! It's probably just a coincidence,"_ she thought back viciously, refusing to admit it, a deep sense of dread settling in the pit of her stomach.

There was a chorus of laughter at that.

"_Well, it didn't seem like coincidence to me." _

"_Come on, he's just a child!" _

"_Who's apparently growing up, Starchild. Open your eyes!"_

She finished her lesson with a heavy heart.

…..

"Soraka!"

Usually that voice both excited her and calmed her down (the tradition was preserved), but right now he was the last person she wanted here.

Her face was scrunched up in concentration, her hands enveloped in healing magic, which gently glowed with warm light. The bags under her eyes were the colour of midnight. Her whole body was shaking. Underneath her hands lay a young unconscious girl, who was sweating and trembling way too much for a healthy person.

She had been brought last night, sweating and panting and dying, with the highest temperature the Starchild had ever felt. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary, but she was burning, as though her body was trying to purge something from her.

Following the orders of her stars, Soraka let the girl burn whatever was plaguing her, making sure she never overstepped the boundary of death, silently aiding her and bestowing the coolness of the Ionian night to her. However, by dawn she was the same as the night before and even the stars were starting to doubt and murmur in indiscernible speech (despite being the last anchor of hope to everybody).

Soraka, on the other hand, pressed on, refusing to relent to hopelessness. She had thought she'd be ready by the time Yi came, but apparently she had been wrong.

The sound of soft footfalls from somewhere behind her didn't even distract her from the objective. Her eyes remained closed, eyebrows furrowed, forehead wrinkled. She registered vaguely a presence right next to her.

"Soraka? "

"Oh, I see, you're working."

He stood by her in silence for a few moments, before speaking up. Boy, did he lack patience.

"I see you are tired. Is there any way to help you?"

This time she gathered the strength to shake her head, not once breaking her stance and concentration (though in reality her concentration was long gone by now). Though it was really nice of him to ask that; a wave of gratitude washed over her and left a tingling sensation in her stomach. Suddenly she felt the exhaustion and for a second abandoned the selflessness she'd imposed on herself for countless years and wished to simply fall back and fall asleep, using Yi as a pillow (he'd make a good pillow).

There was some shuffling from her side.

"Are you sure?"

She shook her head no again.

The next things that happened left her flabbergasted.

In an instant, her hands (her lonely, lonely hands, entwined only with the light of the stars' magic) were enveloped in his. The bright yellow of the magic she was using intermingled with his own, green as the forests she played to when she was alone, and boosted her up. The girl both of them were working on now visibly relaxed under their combined power. However, that wasn't what Soraka was paying attention at.

It was his hands. They baffled her. Although she continued channeling magic, all she could concentrate on were his hands. They were chapped, calloused, warm and bigger than hers (although he was shorter than her). There was something encouraging in them, something that made her push forward and help the girl. But also, they were the hands of a young adult now. Gone were the child fat and plumpness.

Those were the hands of a protector.

There was a surge of something unknown in her body. She really hoped the stars wouldn't notice it.

"It's okay now, Soraka. I can finish your work."

Once again she shook her head no. She wasn't going to act so selfish as to abandon one who needs help she could give. So she continued on. He didn't question her.

Only at sunset did they manage to fight back whatever was plaguing the girl. She was already sleeping soundly and serenely, when Soraka let the last bits of magic sift from her hands. However, she kept them in his grasp and smiled hesitantly.

"Thank you," she murmured, unsure how to react to both his actions and the feelings they had stirred in her. Feelings she had thought long gone.

"Hey, no problem. I'm glad I could help," he grinned back at her in that dangerous way. At that sight, the corners of her own lips curled up and she cursed her treacherous body which wouldn't listen to what she ordered it to do.

Her eyes remained lost in his; the color reminded him of the lonely sunrises over Ionia's forests. Still entwined, their hands lowered, but she wouldn't notice. She didn't know what to say.

Luckily she didn't have to, as a quiet cough took them away from their stupor.

Startled, Soraka glanced down, cursing herself again for letting her attention slip, and saw dark eyes gazing back into hers. A deep sigh of relief resounded from deep within her chest and the smile was back.

The girl was alive.

Her eyes fluttered heavily, as though fighting with sleep. Instinctively, Soraka reached out to smooth her hair and caress her cheeks, giving her the comfort and assurance that she was in a safe place, but her newfound helper beat her to it. His hands disappeared from hers, leaving them to fall to her sides like dead weight, and rested on the side of the girl's face.

"It's all right, now. You're safe here, you can sleep," Yi murmured gently to her, earning himself a tortured smile from the girl.

"T-thank―"

"Shh, sleep now," he shushed her again, and, in surprising display of tenderness he kissed her forehead. She fell asleep on the spot, as content as a baby.

Soraka, however, wasn't content. At all.

Her face was burning, a certain image engraved on the inside of her lids. Her lonely, oh so lonely hands lay limp on her sides and her stomach was churning, keen on making an intangible knot in her body.

"_Whoaaah, do I sense jealousy?" _

Clenching her teeth to the point of breaking, Soraka shook her head no hard, not really taking into account the fact that Yi could see her.

"Mom does it my little bro, when he can't fall asleep," he explained to her, thinking that the shake was meant for his actions.

For a moment she was struck by the image of him, his little brother and his parents, all huddled in the huts that he had described for her (and that she had seen over Ionia), all wearing that painfully familiar smile and exuding an aura of tranquility and love, and family. The pang of loneliness left a gaping hole in her. For centuries she had been alone, with the only family and love offered by giant balls up in the sky who didn't really understand human emotions.

"No, I think it was really nice of you to do that," she muttered, almost indistinguishably. But he heard her and of course, had to beam like there was no tomorrow. For a second, she wanted to not be the Starchild, to come home to hut filled with a smile like that and be able to look at it every moment of the day.

But as it wouldn't be any other way, he quickly shifted his attention to the girl, looking over at her with a care in his eyes that she'd not seen before.

"_That boy is a born protector, you know." _

She wouldn't agree with that. It wasn't protective feelings that he had. It was something else. The stars wouldn't understand though. It was far too complex for them. But it was the truth.

She glanced once more at his eyes. And lost herself.

That moment she realized that Yi had grown up, and that not only everyone except her saw that, but also she didn't like it at all when they did.

And that was definitely _not_ okay.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, um, I have nothing to say here... Not much action this chapter, but I promise we're over with the feels ^^ **

...

To sum up.

She was a who-knows-how-old immortal mage who had sworn look after and care for those who needed it. That meant a life of altruism and self-sacrifice – she could never hate, nor love. That was also why she was given immortality, why she had supposedly ceased being a human: the fear of losing one would be enough to make her a hermit.

And she was used to that anyway. That look of gratitude when someone came to collect the patient and she could just see in their eyes that she had just saved their universe from collapsing. And it was comforting in a way. But what little consolation she could get from them would disappear as soon as the patient and their companion left her grove. So she would need another patient and another relieved relative or love to feel that she had accomplished something. Anything. But otherwise she was lonely, oh so lonely. As much as she enjoyed their happiness she was not part of it. What she healed were complete strangers. Although she cloaked the sadness from her shiny friends' prying minds (and sometimes her own) she needed a human being right next to her. It seemed she was still very much a human with her selfishness.

One had managed to wriggle underneath her cloak of indifference, however. Once a tiny little boy with a big wooden stick for a sword and big dreams up ahead, now a lanky teen with a real sword and equally big dreams. He had waltzed into her routine and made a comfortable place for himself in her grove and life with little to no objection from her. And for that there had been consequences.

The self-sacrifice she imposed on herself just… couldn't be anymore. Even now that she was alone (he had left her to escort that girl to her village, which left her seething with embers in her belly), she couldn't think of anything else but the moment he would come back and occupy her time with silly little stories or random ideas he'd want them to try out. Unbestowed to her, she had abandoned selflessness somewhere between the notes she would always play to him in the evening.

What if one day she would have to heal someone who had hurt _him_? What if one day she would have to heal someone who had killed _him_? Or what if it was _him_ who would become a killer (though she doubted that from the very bottom of her heart)? And the dreaded question: what would she do once he… passed away?

In order for her duties to go on serenely, she had to become a hermit again.

Thinking that was easy, but how? There were so many questions in her life which had had none up until now and she didn't know what to do. She couldn't make a decision and her stars on which she depended so much wouldn't really help her.

And now, this… this feeling. It had made things worse.

She couldn't even describe what she felt during that moment when, instead of seeing her, the girl's eyes directly went to his and her mouth broke into an instant smile which had been as ear-splitting as his.

It was then when something in her had constricted, as though she had eaten a whole bowl of embers which had burned her body from her mouth cavity to her lower belly, where it had collapsed into a bonfire. There was no explanation for that. Nothing ever would have prepared her for that.

Suddenly, she heard someone _extremely familiar _shouting her name and immediately she sprung to her feet to welcome him.

As he made way through the hardest possible way through the trees and into the clearing, she couldn't help but smile at his antics.

One thing was sure: they could not continue like that. There was no way she could fulfill her obligations with these new-found feelings. And she refused to discard what she had done all her life.

She observed him as he passed through the last of the annoying trees. He was panting, probably running up until now, with a flushed and smiling face (as always) and palms tightened into fists which relaxed once he looked at her.

What was with adolescents and their way of smiling, anyway? She couldn't smile like that.

He stopped short of bumping into her and put his hand up in a mock salute. She giggled, but deftly noticed that his eyes were staring in a different direction, a little lower than what she preferred. A sigh tore from her lungs. She should really think of a new dress. But that later, when she'd cleared this mess. Despite the fact that she wouldn't need it then. So she forced a smile (it was old and used and useless, much like her flute, but she couldn't do better).

"You escorted her to her village, right?" she asked, in what she hoped to be a more distanced and colder tone.

"Yup," Yi nodded enthusiastically, "Safe and sound, with her family."

"Good then," she turned and slowly made for her garden. Soft footfalls alerted her that he had followed her. Shoot. Just what she didn't want. At all.

Nonetheless, she reached her garden and bent down to gather some herbs, not unaware that her butt was most probably in a very nice position. Still, she had an idea for an elixir that might soothe patients like the last one and had to try it instantly.

For a while her companion stood in silence somewhere behind her. However, just like with all adolescent boys, he couldn't sit still and soon he was fidgeting, wanting them to do something. She paid him no heed.

Eventually he spoke.

"Whatcha gathering herbs for?"

"I have an idea for this potion," she huffed in concentration, as she looked over at what she'd collected and mentally counted what was left to gather, "I believe it can soothe a patient's pain in case of illnesses like the last one."

At the last sentence she glanced at him right on time to notice how he stiffened slightly. Her heart fell at that notion.

She almost laughed out loud at how pathetic she actually were.

"That's… good, I guess," finally he managed to mumble out and they fell into an unwelcomed silence. He wanted to ask her something, that much was obvious.

And since she knew he wouldn't keep it in himself, she continued on with her work, all the while surveying her garden in delight. Although it was late autumn, there were still some plants blooming, ones that had managed to survive during the era of the Frozen Watchers or ones who had endured in the long years of the Rune Wars whose potential wasn't researched even by her.

Her fingers trailed over a flower which glowed in almost poisonous green and bloomed in a deadly violet. She had gone through so much to get this specimen from the Kumungu Jungle quite some time ago. Sadly, she hadn't had the opportunity to study its properties. Not to mention it was so fragile.

"Soraka?"

His voice snapped her out of her reverie. After all, he didn't call her with her full name as often. But, yay, he'd finally gotten tired of staring at her ass. She stood up from her crouch and turned to him.

"Yeah?"

Her hair was messy, having escaped her braid long ago, and her gown was caked with mud. Her hands were brown and wet, with the aftertaste of rich soil in the form of dirt under her fingernails. But there was contentment on her face that Yi couldn't quite place. He was momentarily struck. But he managed to get himself together.

"I wana train. Can you play for me a little?"

What Soraka could see were one of the best puppy eyes she'd ever felt on herself. Too bad she was immune to them (or at least she could try to make it seem so).

"I know no songs of wars and fighting, boy."

"I'm not gonna fight now, I'm gonna train my Wuju philosophy!"

"Well, I don't know any songs of philosophy either! My songs are of happiness, of the sky and the stars."

That really saddened Yi, but he had learned a few things and one of them was not pressuring her when she used _that_ voice.

…..

When she saw that long face, she'd instantly wanted to take her words back. Sad features didn't suit him at all and she hated to be the reason for them. However, a small voice in her mind, one different from the stars', one which she hadn't heard before, reminded her of what she had to do, of what was at stake and what she should not feel.

The plan was clear in her head, tucked away from the curiosity of her friends, though she couldn't bring herself to do it. Still she gathered her strength, as patient as a tree slowly growing from a sapling to a mighty defender of the forest. If there was one thing the celestial mage could be proud of it was her patience.

It was stupid, really. And selfish. Very, very, incredibly selfish. Doing all that would mean sacrificing her sacred duty, the main reason she was still alive, just so she could salvage her feelings, rotten and meaningless as they were.

Yi came and went, undisturbed, not noticing the inner turmoil of his companion and though Soraka enjoyed the serene moments with him, she was preparing for the day that they would end. He grew taller and taller until he looked like a warrior of old, which only made her wish for family bigger (but she knew better). The number of patients was lessening with each week for which she was really happy. That meant her absence from the mortal world wouldn't be harmful. _Very_ harmful.

And so, the day came.

It was another summer night.

However, this one was hot and stuffy, as though someone had set fire under the ground and left it to boil. Dark heavy clouds promised rain which she was sure won't soothe the burning soil. The mountains of Ionia weren't visible, shrouded in a dark blanket of mist; instead all she could see were the nearby hills and the dense thicket on top of them.

Thanks to her― the stars' magic, her grove was situated far lower than usual. Although the celestial mage was playing the flute, a melody of old, mourning a girl's loss of her childhood years, she was watching a certain path through the forest (one she was so used to watching) so intently that she paid little heed to the song and as a result made quite a few errors. Her eyes glowed with curiosity one could only deem mortal, as her fingers danced madly in a eerie tango over the finger holes. Her mind was elsewhere, going over the details of her plan over and over again.

The boy would usually come when the sun was six fingers away from setting and would stay much till later in the night. Although she had no means to see what the time was, the Starchild waited patiently. She could easily ask her companions the time, but she didn't want to appear impatient. She didn't want them to see just how much of her humanity was back.

There he was!

Her fingers hit a note so false it would have made her feel ashamed, as she studied the figure making his way through the bushes. For a second another image flashed before her eyes and she was overcome by a sense of _déjà vu_, but it was quickly banished from her mind. Now was the time.

"_Soraka, what are you doing? Why are you staring at Yi so weirdly?" _one of the stars (she couldn't distinguish them anymore) asked in her mind, in a shrill panicked voice.

Her eyes remained fixated on the boy, no word leaving her mouth. He was close to the entry of her grove. She drank in his appearance, the posture, the determination of each movement and the brightness of his soul.

After she'd had enough, she turned away and looked to the heavens.

"_Seal the entrance." _

The response was a long cry which only the ones who felt an unfairness be done would make.

"_But why?!" _

"_What's gotten into you?!" _

"_Are you serious?!" _

"_Are you abandoning your duties?!" _

"_Why'd you keep Yi out?" _

"_And anyone else!" _

She didn't say anything during the verbal onslaught, just let them shout at her. Then, slowly she let her mind open and all of her thoughts came rushing over the stars' old souls. Each ounce of feeling was laid out in the open and she sincerely hoped it was reason enough.

"_Seal the entrance,"_ she didn't as much as plead this time.

The silence that followed was more deafening than the cry from before.

"_So be it, then,"_ finally, a single voice rose over the others, deep and strong and older than the world, "Though we do not understand the motivations behind your wish, we are going to honour it."

As a distinct aura of otherworldly magic descended upon the grove and enveloped her in a thick coat of security, she shivered and wrinkled her nose in disgust; disgust over the future and over her actions. Shutting herself from the real world had been a stupid move. It parted her from her duties, from her habits, from what she'd loved doing, of the one person who has ever felt gratitude to her. However, she also understood that she couldn't have what she wanted; there were responsibilities to be had. And depriving Ionians from her service for a short while until a certain person forgot about her was far better than for a longer time, or possibly forever.

Or that was simply what she told herself so as not to admit the fear that was consuming her whole.

There was a distinct cry of outrage and helplessness from the other world, but Soraka did her best to ignore it.

...


End file.
